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In fact, he was stunning with the deep reds and oranges of the setting sun behind him, the trees reaching up around him, making him appear entirely at home. He’d never belonged inside Larkwood, not under shackle and key, not in the unnatural brick and plaster walls.
So often I’d thought of shades as unnatural, but seeing him like this? It was clear that he belonged here, that it was the human world where he didn’t fit.
Kit barreled forward again, dodging my next attack even more easily than he had the first, as if without the encumberment of his human body he was even further away from anything I could counter.
He tackled me again, pinning me beneath him until I could do nothing but stare up into those black pits that threatened to pull me under.
“You ran away from me,” he said, his voice anything other than the cold emotionless one I was used to.
He came closer, and for a moment, confusion hit me. His face was a skull. Kissing wasn’t an option, not like this, so why did his face near mine?
I thought that until his body twisted against me as he turned human again, and his warm, soft lips took mine. He kissed me like he had in the last dream, rough and aggressive, and I melted into it.
It was the first real time we’d touched like this, the first time we’d crossed this line in such a way. The way he kissed me said he’d wanted it, that he was as consumed by the desire as I was.
It shattered the view I’d had of him as someone who had no connection to anything, as entirely disinterested in the world around him. The way he’d viewed himself, as an elder who didn’t care about the world, that wasn’t the man who kissed me. This man cared greatly, at least about this.
His hands—thankfully human again—traced up my side, over the fabric of my sundress. He cupped my breast, though the touch was odd because he refused to pull away from me in the least. His confidence surprised me the most, given how careful he usually was when he touched me.
And I responded with just as much desire. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer, writhing against him because I didn’t want any space between us. I had feared that I’d never see or touch him again, so I wouldn’t hold back now.
He braced himself on one elbow, then reached down, grasping the hem of my dress to pull it up. He let out a feral growl before something sliced through the hip of my underwear. Since he had no weapons that I knew of, I had to assume he’d shifted his fingers to claws. It also screamed the same lack of restraint I’d suspected from the rest of his actions.
And somehow, that aggressive nature infected me as well. I should have been afraid to have so much of him focused on me, to feel the way he lost his control, but even if I was, my want outweighed it by a longshot.
He shifted his hips away from me as he reached between us, brushing the back of his hand against my bare skin for a moment as the sound of his zipper seemed impossibly loud.
He broke the kiss and lifted himself enough to stare down at me. “Tell me yes.” The desperate edge to his voice excited me. He could force me, could demand my compliance, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave me the choice.
Did I want to go this far? Did I want to cross this last line, to have him like this?
The answer was so simple it almost made me laugh.Of courseI wanted him.
I wanted his flaws and his strengths—all of it. I wanted that deep coldness inside him, and the loneliness, and the years he’d lived, the power and the fear. I wanted to taste it all, everything that made him into who he was.
So I nodded as I curled my fingers into him, gripping the back of his vest, the dichotomy of his nice outfit and the dirt from where I’d thrown him to the ground, the coldness of his eyes and the heat of his touch, it all drew me deeper into our shared madness.
Strong, agile fingers ran up my drenched slit, the intimate touch making me arch against him.
“Be still,” he growled. “I’m on the edge of my control, here. You’remine,bound to me, and yet you ran from me. You endangered yourself. Do you have any idea what that does to me? I don’t want to hurt you, but I have to have you, and I can’t wait long.”
He said it like an apology, but he didn’t need to apologize to me over that. I was fine with it. I wanted him as much as he wanted me—maybe more. I didn’t need nor want slowness or romance. I wantedhim, the real him.
But I didn’t dare pull my hands away to sign that. Instead, I reached across the thread of out connection to push a thought to him as I had before.I need you, too.
His eyebrows raised, one of the rare moments of true surprise from him.
He groaned out a sound equal parts frustration and pleasure before he sank two of his thick fingers into my waiting pussy.
And it was so much more than I’d ever thought I’d get from him.
Kit
Hera was impossibly hot. My life had been bathed in coldness, in a never-ending appetite that wanted to consume everything. Nothing but that hunger had existed inside me, yet Hera pushed all that aside.
The snug grip of her cunt drove me mad, made me crave nothing but her. I wanted to burn alive with her.
The way she’d told me she needed me even managed to push aside my hesitancy, my fear of moving too fast, of not doing this right. I could say all day long that Hera deserved romance, that she should have had me take my time, to have her in a place better than the dirt outside like this. I would have wanted to take her in a bed, to strip her slowly and discover and worship every inch of her perfect body. I wanted to show her what she meant to me, that even though I could be cold, even though I struggled to find connection with much or care about much, she mattered to me.
